Title: Closure
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Genfic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Categories: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Challenge Response
Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters I'm just inspired by them. Hopefully they've had fun playing in my sandbox.
Note: Written for the "There It Sat" Challenge on the NFA
Summary: A somber anniversary brings Gibbs to California where he meets a mother carrying a pain worse than his own. Can they help each other find some closure?
Status: WIP

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There it sat, another gravestone of a child that was taken far too soon. This one sadder than most, because the headstone next to it was the child's mother's. Too soon. They were both taken too soon. Just like her son had been.

---------------

It was late, well after nine, the bullpen dark save for the desk lamps burning on Tony and Gibbs' desks. The last case had been a bear, and Tony was finishing up the paperwork. Gibbs got up and shut off his light, and stepped over to Tony's desk.

"You about done?

"Just about." Tony could see that Gibbs looked tired, more so than usual after a big case.

"You're in charge the next couple of days, I'm taking the rest of the week as personal time, I've got something to take care of."

Gibbs taking time off came as a major surprise to Tony and he asked, "Is there anything I can help with, Boss?"

Gibbs gave him a wane little grin and shook his head, "Nope. That's why they call it personal time, DiNozzo. It's personal." And with that he turned and headed for the elevator.

Tony sighed, and his eyes fell on the desk calendar, and it only took a moment for his detective's brain to place what the day after tomorrow was to Gibbs, the anniversary of the deaths of his wife and daughter. Tony winced, and wished he had realized sooner that the date was approaching, but they had been so wrapped up in back to back cases that he barely had time to think. But it did explain the short fuse Gibbs had had all week with the team.

---------------

Gibbs settled back and let the noise of the C-130 wash over him, and he thought to himself that this was definitely better than flying commercial. There was no one to bother him, and he didn't have to talk to anyone. And it gave him time alone with his memories. Since his return to NCIS after his coma and subsequent trip to Mexico, he had been trying to work through his memories and emotions, trying to put them back into the neat little boxes he had them locked in before that damn explosion. In the past he thought he had had closure on it all, but now he wasn't so sure. His grief and anguish were still razor sharp since waking up from the coma, he needed to find a way to dull them. And he prayed that this trip would do that for him.

He smiled to himself as he though about Jenny. When he brought the leave request to her office, she had looked at it oddly, he was known for not taking time off, but then the date had registered in her mind and she had swallowed hard, but hadn't said anything. She had signed the request without hesitation and as she had handed it back to him, had said simply with compassion in her eyes, "Find a flight and I'll authorize it."

His smile turned into a smirk, he doubted she had expected him to strap in in the belly of a C-130.

---------------

He checked himself into the hospitality lodging at Camp Pendleton and took a long, hot shower. His body was a little stiff after the long plane ride, but he felt rested. The badge on his belt gave him leave to wander around the base and he took advantage of it. The base had grown and changed since his tenure there as a Marine then as an NCIS agent. He told himself that he wasn't driving anywhere particular, but somehow the car found it's way to park in front of the little row house that had been assigned to them when he was stationed out of Pendleton. The shrubs were new, and the trim and the shutters had been painted a new color, but his mind erased the differences and he all he could see was Shannon and Kelly standing there so clearly.

He eventually drove off and went and found himself something to eat, and a six pack of beer and went back to his room and crashed for the night, mentally trying to prepare himself for the next day.

---------------

The next morning, the day broke sunny and clear. And Gibbs was glad for that, he wanted to visit his family with the warm sun softening the somberness of the cemetery.

He swallowed hard as he noticed his hands shaking as he looped the length of his tie up and over. It took four attempts for it to even look like it wasn't his first time with a necktie.

He stopped a florist outside the base and bought two bouquets, one of Shannon's favorite, peach roses, and one of Kelly's favorite, sunflowers.

Gibbs pulled into the cemetery and parked, and walked towards the section he had memorized all those years ago. The cemetery was very well maintained, the grass green and everything neatly trimmed. He noticed flowers planted near some of the grave markers, something that family members added and cared for, and he saw some graves with little mementos and stuffed animals.

The closer he got to his destination, the tighter his throat constricted. And as he made the last turn and he found himself finally looking down on Shannon and Kelly his confusion knew no bounds. For all around the two headstones were thriving bunches of cheerful little flowers. And as he took it all in, he also noticed a little teddy bear wearing a red sweater with pink heart on it for Valentine's Day propped up near Kelly's headstone. He had expected to have to pluck random pieces of tall grass from around the stones that the trimmer had missed, but their graves were meticulously kept. It made no sense to him. Who was doing all this?

He gently lay the two bouquets down and without thought to his suit, sat down on the ground with his knees drawn up in front of him. A sudden flash of Shannon chiding him about plunking down in the grass with Kelly in their church clothes one Sunday almost made him smile, and he relived what he had replied out loud, "It's just a little grass, nothing the cleaners can't fix, Shan."

Gibbs lost track of how long he sat there, communing with them silently and occasionally out loud. He forced himself to only think about happy memories. He knew there was nothing he could do to bring them back. And he also knew that focusing on the pain of losing them would just make him want to do something that would end up with him being lowered into the grave next to Kelly's. The grave site that he had purchased immediately after returning from Iraq all those years ago.

He told them about NCIS and his team, and in halting words he told them about the explosion last year that landed him in a coma and how he had lost fifteen years. And he clenched his teeth and swallowed hard, fighting the tears that had managed to fill his eyes without permission before saying, "I miss you guys. Everyday."

With nothing left to say, he stood and looked down one last time before turning and walking away.

As he walked back towards his car his eyes picked out a couple of other graves with the same carefully tended flowers like Shannon and Kelly. He detoured from his path and stopped at one of them. Reading the headstone he winced, a child. He made his way to another one, and again found it to be a child's resting place. The pattern quickly formed in his mind he headed for the caretaker's office to see if they knew who was responsible.

The manager of the cemetery was a burly and quiet Marine with a rank of Staff Sergeant. When Gibbs asked him about who was tending the children's graves, the Marine's eyes softened and he said with respect bordering on reverence, "That would be Alice Boyd, sir, she takes care of all the children here."

Gibbs wondered who this Alice Boyd was, and why was she doing this? He distractedly replied softly, "Including mine."

The Marine heard him but asked, "Sir?"

Gibbs shook his head, bringing himself back to the conversation, "Never mind. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find this Alice Boyd do you?"

"I'm really not at liberty to say, sir."

"Would it help if I told you I work for NCIS?" The Marine looked a little doubtful and Gibbs flashed his id, "Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS."

Gibbs could almost see the man flipping through the mental filing cabinet in his head and the Marine asked cautiously, "Shannon and Kelly Gibbs, sir?"

He swallowed hard and lifted his chin a bit before answering, "My wife and daughter. You know their names, Staff Sergeant?"

The big Marine said respectfully and proudly, "I know all the names, sir." Gibbs nodded, and the man continued, "Sir, I can't tell you her address, but Mrs. Boyd attends mass every day at 1900, you could find her there."

---------------

Gibbs had the directions to the church and he had time to grab some coffee and a dinner before the mass. His mind kept wondering why exactly would someone voluntarily tend the graves of dead children. And as he pushed his pie that he didn't really want but had ordered anyway around the plate, it hit him. It would have to be someone who had lost a child of their own. And with that piece of the puzzle firmly in mind, he drained the rest of his coffee, paid the check, and headed for the mass.

The church wasn't large, and it wasn't in a particularly affluent neighborhood. He could see that it needed repairs, but the grounds were well kept and he could see the now familiar bunches of flowers that he would forever associate with the mysterious Alice Boyd. The church was welcoming, and judging by the number of people attending evening mass, it was popular. He settled himself on a pew in the back and observed the parishioners with a trained eye.

He tried to figured out who Mrs. Boyd might be, the old woman with a lacy shawl covering her hair adhering to old traditions? Or maybe the woman that looked to be in her late twenties, early thirties who was sitting off to the side in jeans and sweater with a bible open on her lap? Or even the woman about his age that was clutching a rosary entwined with a set of dog tags? He just didn't know.

The priest made his way to the podium and cleared his throat gently to gain everyone's attention. "Good evening everyone. Before we begin tonight's service, our dear friend Alice has asked that we celebrate tonight's mass in memory of two that were lost a long time ago on this day. Please join us in offering a prayer for Shannon and Kelly Gibbs that their souls may find peace in heaven, and for those they left behind so long ago, to give them the strength and hope to know that they will see them again."

Gibbs had stopped breathing. And it was only the spots in front of his eyes and the loud ringing in his ears that made him realize he had. He numbly sat through the rest of service. After it was through, the parishioners filtered out, leaving one or two in the pews. The woman in jeans was tucking the bible into her bag and walked towards the exit where the priest was saying goodnight to everyone. "Thank you, Father Thomas, the service was lovely."

Gibbs practically flew to his feet when he heard the priest reply, "It is wonderful of you to remember them all, as always, Alice. May Shannon and Kelly rest in peace."

Before she could walk away, Gibbs asked, "Alice Boyd?"

Both she and Father Thomas turned towards him and she replied, "Yes?"

"My name is Jethro Gibbs. How do you know my wife and daughter?"

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tbc...

All of the color drained from Alice's face, and she clapped a hand to her mouth in horror as she whispered, "Oh, my god."

Father Thomas offered gently, "Alice requests memorial masses for all the lost children, Mr. Gibbs, so they are not forgotten. We meant no offense, neither of us knew you were coming this evening or we would have asked you first."

Gibbs shook his head lightly and said a little more abruptly than he actually intended, but if he didn't just say it outright, he didn't know if he could bring himself to say it at all, "I went out there to visit... them, earlier today and saw the flowers. And I just wanna know why you do it. Why do you take care of the graves of other people's children?"

Her voice was small as she answered sadly, "Because I don't have one for my son to take care of, Mr. Gibbs."

Father Thomas could practically feel the pain rolling off of the both of them and he offered, "Please, why don't we go back to the residence for some coffee?"

Alice shook her head, "I can't, Father, I have to go. I am sorry, Mr. Gibbs." And before either of them could say a word she turned and quickly left.

Gibbs watched her leave, and found himself saying softly, "It's Jethro."

He then turned to Father Thomas and asked bluntly, "What did she mean about her son?"

Father Thomas clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Come. We'll talk over coffee."

---------------

Father Thomas went through the motions of making coffee as he shared the highlights of Alice's story, the parts that were well known to everyone as not to break her confidence as her priest, "Her three year old son was abducted four years ago. Alice's husband was a Marine that was killed in Afghanistan before he could be brought home on emergency leave when it happened."

Those two statements tore through Gibbs, and he asked, "Did they find her son?"

"No. Not a trace."

"Who handled the investigation?"

"The FBI and state police. There was an intensive search for him, Mr. Gibbs. The trail just went cold and there hasn't been anything new in a very long time."

"So she just started taking planting flowers in the cemetery?"

Father Thomas sighed, "No, not right away. It was months after she buried her husband and the investigation got put on the back burner. She didn't mean to offend you, it's just her way of coping, Mr. Gibbs."

Gibbs stared at the mug in front of him, trying to imagine what it would be like to have a child simply missing. The pain of Kelly's death was almost too much to bear, and he just couldn't envision the not knowing that must be eating at Alice. Although Kelly was lying in that cemetery, he didn't have worry about where she was or what unspeakable things someone might be doing to her. His father's heart ached for Alice. And with a familiar determined set to his jaw he said, "Actually Father, it's Special Agent Gibbs, with NCIS. I joined the agency after... after Shannon and Kelly... And I'm making you a promise right now, I am going to find out what happened to Alice's son."

---------------

The next morning Gibbs hit the local FBI field office bright and early and was instantly stonewalled by the FBI agent in charge. Gibbs took a breath and stepped outside before flipping open his cellphone and hitting a speed dial.

The gruff voice on the other end answered, "Fornell."

"I need a favor, Tobias."

He explained that he wanted access to the Boyd case file.

"Not that I mind you putting man hours in on one of our cases, but why is this so important to you, Jethro?"

"I'm out here at Pendleton. I found out yesterday that Alice Boyd, the missing boy's mother, has been... taking care of Shannon and Kelly. It's just something I have to do."

"I'm sorry, Jethro, I didn't realize what the date is. Give me a minute after we hang up and you'll have what you need."

"Thanks."

"And Jethro."

"Yeah?"

"I hope you find him."

"Me too."

---------------

It had actually taken five minutes, but the thoroughly chastised agent escorted Gibbs to a conference room and had the case file and evidence brought up to Gibbs.

Bit by bit he read it all, Alice and Walter Boyd had gotten married in 1998, a year later their son Andrew was born. Walter was a Marine munitions specialist with a good service record. Alice ran the small nursery that had been left to her by her father. Now he understood the flowers. They lived in the house Alice grew up on the property. Their lives seemed ordinary, sedate even. At least they were until Andrew was snatched right out of his bed one night.

Alice had gone to get Andrew up and dressed when she found him to be missing. The FBI found a rag soaked with chloroform left in the bedroom, and the window had a pane missing so the abductor could unlock the window. They had found several foot prints in the soft flower bed below the window, and a small piece of ripped cloth with a trace of blood on it that had been caught on one of the rose bushes. There were also two single fingerprints that were found, one on the headboard of Andrew's bed and the other on the removed pane of glass. Neither matched Alice, Walter or Andrew. They had no other leads, nothing else to go on. Canvasing the extended area around the Boyd home yielded nothing. And the tip line hadn't produced anything even remotely credible. The Boyds were not rich by any means, the nursery and the house on the property were mortgaged, and the business was barely breaking even. It did not appear at first glance that ransom was the motive, and was confirmed when none was requested.. And as the days turned to weeks, months, then years, the FBI still had no breaks in the case.

As he stared at the forensics report about the blood on the ripped cloth that had proved to be fruitless he had a flash of inspiration and pulled out his phone.

"Gibbs!"

"Hey, Abs. Got a sec?"

"I've got lots of secs for you. Well, time secs, not sex secs. Er, ah, I don't think that came out right."

"Ya think, Abby? Talk to me about the differences in DNA matching from four years ago versus now."

Abby happily went on and on about the recent advances in both testing and match searching.

"I'm gonna have some evidence sent to you, can you work your magic on it and see what you can find? Any sort of partial match might give us a place to start looking."

He hung up with Abby and his eyes fell to a picture in the file. It showed Alice, Walter, and Andrew on the steps of their church dressed formally, for Easter it appeared. His mind flashed to a similar picture tucked in his bookshelf at home. Alice lost everything in such a short period of time and he wondered how she was even still standing. He had almost eaten his gun in his grief, and it was only by putting a bullet in that drug dealer's head that he had found the strength to go on, where did she get her resolve?

He arranged to have the evidence shipped to Abby, and he made a quick photocopy of the case file then headed for Alice's nursery.

---------------

He found her watering trays of seedlings, her expression nervous when she saw him approach. She started to stammer something out, "Mr. Gibbs..." but he put a hand up to stop her and said lightly, "It's Jethro."

She tried again, "Jethro, about yesterday, I am so sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It all just took me by surprise and that doesn't happen very often, I didn't mean to be so abrupt."

She coiled the hose and dropped it on a handy hook and wiped her hands on her jeans before extending her hand, "Maybe we can try again. Alice Boyd."

"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS."

"NCIS?"

He found himself giving her the same response he had given Father Thomas, although this time there was no hesitation, this woman knew his pain, intimately, and he didn't need to try and hide it from her, "I joined the agency after Shannon and Kelly died."

To her credit she didn't say she was sorry, didn't offer condolences, she simply nodded in acknowledgment. But before they could continue the conversation, a pickup truck pulled up and a handsome man about Alice's age got out. Sporting a high and tight and a well toned, healthy physique, Gibbs would wager that the man was a Marine. And sure enough, it was a Marine Corps t-shirt he was wearing. It was only years of self-discipline that kept Gibbs from wincing as he took in the mechanized prosthesis where the man's right arm used to be. He heard Alice say, "Excuse me just a minute, Jethro."

He was surprised to see them exchange a kiss on the cheek and he could hear them as they talked for a minute about an order she had put together for him. She also stepped into the little shed-like office building and came out with some plant in a terracotta pot that she handed to him. He laughed and took it from her and put it safely in the cab of his truck.

She rejoined Gibbs while the guy loaded his order into the back of his truck. Her demeanor was much friendlier now, the mood lighter, and whoever the man was he had brought a smile to her face.

Gibbs gestured around at all the plants, "You have quite the green thumb."

"I grew up in these greenhouses. My dad could make anything grow and I spent every minute I could out here with him. And now it's mine. I'm not quite as good as he was, but I come pretty close."

"And here I am just happy when the crab grass doesn't take over."

They started walking back towards the entrance, the man had finished loading his order and as he waved goodbye he tossed out, "I'm outta here. See you Saturday, Al."

She waved back and called out, "Bye, Andy."

The name struck Gibbs as odd, and he was not one to believe in coincidence. He was trying to put pieces together in his head when Alice turned to him, "He was the last one I'm expecting today, have you had lunch yet? I can make us some sandwiches."

The headed for the house, and she had him settle in at the table in the large eat-in kitchen while she puttered and gathered the fixings for lunch.

He wanted to be upfront with her, and said lightly, "I spoke with Father Thomas last night."

She nodded, "I figured you would. I assume he told you about Walter and Andrew?"

"Yeah. And I visited the FBI field office earlier and read your case file."

That nervous look returned to her face and she said quickly, "I did not hurt my son, Jethro."

He had been about to tell her that he was sending the evidence back to NCIS for further testing but her words stopped him dead in his tracks. Of course she would have been questioned along those lines given the circumstances of the case. But the thought of her being grilled in an interrogation room while her son was missing made him clench his jaw in anger. "I didn't even think that, Alice. Not once." And that was true.

Her posture relaxed, "I don't mean to be defensive, it's just that there are a lot of people out there that still think I had something to do with Andrew's abduction."

They talked openly as they ate, and she put the human face on the case file for him. Their conversation branched out over coffee and he found himself asking, "So what's Andy's story?"

A little blush crept up her cheeks and she said with a grin, "He was Walter's best friend. The two of them grew up together and went and joined the Corps together right out of high school. They were like brothers. He, ah, lost his arm two years ago in Iraq. Damn IED. Anyway, he took the discharge and started his own landscaping business and he's doing really well."

There was a hint of pride in her voice, and something else, and he offered gently, "So the two of you?"

She rolled her eyes and replied, "That's complicated."

"Wouldn't be the first time a Marine and a buddy's widow fell for each other. Or is it more than that?"

Alice fiddled with her coffee mug, "I'm sure you noticed the name thing by now."

"Yeah."

She sighed, "Walter was sterile, he had gotten a bad case of mumps as a teenager. We were trying to go through a sperm bank but it was too expensive and we just couldn't afford it. Walter and Andy had gone out one night and gotten pretty liquored up and Walter told Andy about it. A couple days later Andy showed up at the house and offered up his sperm if we wanted it. And that's how we had Andrew. Everyone thinks he's named after Andy just because he was Walter's best friend, only a few of us know the real reason."

None of that had been in the case file he had read earlier. He replied, "That was quite the gift, he sounds like a good man."

"He is. The best, Jethro. He brought Walter home, and helped me through that, and got me through the first couple of months Andrew was missing. But then he had to go back to Iraq. It was on his second tour there that he lost his arm, and then it was my turn to take care of him. And we've just sort of been taking care of each other ever since. But it doesn't go beyond that."

He nodded, she was right, it was complicated. But he had seen relationships based on a lot less, hell, he had had relationships based on a lot less.

She smiled and teased, "My turn. So what about you? Did you remarry?"

It was Gibbs' turn to roll his eyes and chuckle, "Oh, yeah. Three times actually. And just as many divorces."

Alice had taken another sip of coffee and almost choked at his answer, "Three?"

Before he could reply, a little electronic beep reverberated thorough the kitchen. Alice stood and said, "Customer. I'll be back. Make yourself at home."

He helped himself to more coffee and walked to the window that looked out over a little fenced in yard. It was play area for a child with a small swingset and a sandbox. It would have been a safe place for a child to play without being able to run out into the traffic of the nursery. But not just any child, her child, her son, the son she struggled to conceive. The child that was the son of two Marines, two heroes, one that was raising him and one that made his existence possible. And someone had stolen that child right out of his own bed, his own home, while both of those honorable men were in Iraq doing what their country asked them to do. For some reason that insulted Gibbs, and made his anger burn even brighter, and it also made him even more determined to find out what happened to her son.

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tbc...